


The Happiest Days of Our Lives

by Nopride4531



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gabriel and Castiel become hunters, Gabriel is a good older brother pass it on, Gen, Healing, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Gabriel, Protective Sam Winchester, Road Trips, Season/Series 09, The Mark of Cain causes problems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-22 18:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13769781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nopride4531/pseuds/Nopride4531
Summary: AU. Roughly Season Nine. After a falling out with Sam and Dean, Castiel hits the road—intent on becoming a hunter. He gets the shock of his life when Gabriel, who by all rights should be dead, appears and claims he wants to help. He and Castiel don't exactly have the best relationship, but maybe—just maybe—hunting together can fix that. But with the threat of Metatron still looming, and the Mark of Cain causing problems, it's only a matter of time before things fall apart.





	1. A New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on the road, Castiel gets the surprise of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accompanying Music: This is Gospel, by Panic! At the Disco

The road stretched before him, a winding expanse of tar and emptiness that went on in a straight line for miles. Castiel didn't know where he was, nor whether he was still in Kansas. He didn't think so, hadn't had much time to check his surroundings. He'd simply picked a highway and started driving. And now, as the stars in the night sky glimmered like tears, he wished he'd paid more attention. All angels possessed a natural sense of direction, but since the fall, he couldn't tap into it. If he had to guess, however, he would assume he was heading west. 

Perhaps that was a good thing. Sam and Dean rarely took cases on the West Coast, and at the moment, Castiel wanted to get as far away from them as possible. Times like this, he missed flying. Another lost ability, for which he could blame Metatron. But, in all honesty, he himself had probably caused much of the damage as well. Castiel gripped the steering wheel of his beat-up Jetta so hard his knuckles whitened. Even after all this time, the guilt ate away at him like acid. He'd  _broken_ Heaven, had a hand in expelling all angels. Sure, Metatron was the main problem, but Castiel had followed him— _helped_ him. His hands twitched with the phantom urge to stab something, and he took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. Unnecessary anger was Dean's territory.

 _Dean._ Castiel dug his fingernails into the steering wheel. Ever since he took the Mark of Cain, the hunter hadn't been the same. Castiel had tried on multiple occasions to help, to try and remove the blemish before it could cause any more damage. But Dean wouldn't hear it. He claimed they  _needed_ the Mark, that it was their only chance of defeating Metatron. And, surprisingly, Sam agreed—albeit, reluctantly. Castiel had tried to get them both to see reason, to see that the Mark would only bring them pain, but they refused. 

And so he'd left... rather, he'd been kicked out of the bunker.  _"If you won't help us, leave."_ Dean's voice echoed in his mind. Something in Castiel's chest seized, nearly causing him to pull over. He felt sick. It was almost like his grace was being yanked out again. Struggling to breathe, he concentrated on the highway, on the fields of corn flying by at a breakneck pace.

"You're speeding."

Castiel jumped, barely stifling a gasp. His hands clutched the steering wheel even tighter, but the sweat on his palms threatened to loosen his grip. He wanted to slam on the brakes—almost did. But that wouldn't accomplish anything, besides cause him discomfort and maybe damage to the car. Slowly, carefully, he glanced to his right...

...And the sight of his new passenger nearly knocked the wind from his chest.

"You look surprised," Gabriel said with a smile. "What, were you expecting Dad?"

 _Hardly_ , Castiel thought, but instead sputtered: "Gabriel?"

It was impossible—or, at least, it  _should_ have been. From what he'd heard from Sam and Dean, Gabriel was long dead, killed by Lucifer. Granted, Castiel hadn't gone back to where it'd supposedly happened, but he hadn't needed to. Lucifer wasn't known for his mercy. No one could survive a confrontation with him, not even another archangel. No.  _No._ It had to be something else, an illusion from stress or maybe one of Metatron's tricks. A trick he wouldn't believe.

"Uh, who else would it be?" Gabriel's—no, the  _illusion's_ —tone sounded exasperated. "Your eyes not working, brother?"

The last word flipped a switch in Castiel. He hit the brakes so hard the tires locked, screeching as they left marks along the road. With the car sitting in the middle of the lane, he turned toward the passenger seat. 

"I don't know what you are," he hissed, glaring at the apparition, "but you're  _not_ Gabriel... he's dead."

Something flashed across the apparition's face, something that looked like sorrow. As quickly as it appeared, however, it was gone. A carefree expression replaced it. "Oh please," the apparition said with a dramatic eye-roll. "You honestly believed I would let  _Lucifer_ get the jump on me?" Another eye-roll. "I'm the trickster, remember?"

He wanted to believe, wanted to more than anything. Castiel's eyes shut on their own accord. Breathing deeply, he leaned back in in his seat and repeated: "He's dead."

Silence from his right, during which he thought the apparition had finally disappeared. But then he heard a heavy sigh, and opened his eyes to find Gabriel still sitting there, watching him carefully. A flutter of hope surfaced somewhere in Castiel's chest... and he struggled to push it back down. Shaking his head, he looked out the windshield, staring at nothing in particular, but praying it would distract him. 

"Castiel."

For once, there was no trace of humor or sarcasm in Gabriel's voice. Reluctantly, Castiel turned to face him again. That same feeling of hope fought for life, only this time, he didn't immediately crush it. Instead, he waited, certain that Gabriel wasn't done speaking. And, in the seconds that followed, he proved him right:

"It's me, brother... It's really me." 

Slowly, Castiel blinked and regarded him with newfound interest.  _It couldn't be..._

"Gabriel?" He managed around a suddenly tight throat. Everything was catching up to him. Metatron, the argument with the Winchesters, leaving the bunker... it was all proving too much. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Gabriel snapped his fingers a few times in front of Castiel's face. "Don't get all sappy on me, Cas. Save it for when we're  _not_ sitting ducks in the middle of the road." 

Finally realizing they were blocking traffic, Castiel shifted gears and started driving again. He felt Gabriel's eyes on him, felt the silent questioning look, and sighed. A small flicker of doubt constricted his chest.  _If_ this was truly Gabriel, Castiel wanted to know two things: how he was alive... and what he wanted with him. 

 "How—" Castiel began, but his brother cut him off.

"Before you even ask," Gabriel sounded exasperated, "no, I didn't die. Far from it, actually." A smile lit up his face. "You should've seen Lucifer, though. Idiot totally bought it." 

Anger suddenly flooded through Castiel, but he kept his gaze firmly on the road. "So, you faked your death...  _again."_

It went unspoken, but the subtext, the knowledge that his brother had once more taken the coward's way out, was there all the same. Castiel glanced at him. Gabriel's eyes were narrowed ever-so-slightly, almost not enough for Castiel to notice. Almost. 

"Sure did." The playful tone was back. "Fooled Luci, fooled you, even fooled the Winchesters." For the first time, Gabriel seemed to notice Sam and Dean's absence. "Speaking of the two knuckleheads, I'm surprised you're not with 'em."

Castiel's fingers dug into the steering wheel, foot pressing just a little harder on the gas. He felt a muscle under his eye twitch, but struggled to keep a blank expression. He didn't think it would do much good, and yet he had to try. He wasn't ready to face the reality about the Winchesters, wasn't ready to accept that years and years of friendship might've been thrown away.

Gabriel, however, wasn't appeased with his silence—and he all-too-easily picked up on Castiel's discomfort. "Oh for Dad's sake," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "What sort of trouble are they in this time? More demons? More angels?"

 _The Mark of Cain,_ Castiel thought, but said: "No... Nothing like that." 

Something in his tone must've sounded off, because he almost immediately felt Gabriel studying him again. He shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Words from the argument with Sam and Dean reentered his mind.  _"If you're not with us, get the hell outta here."_ An odd sensation burned his eyes—and with a jolt, he realized it was tears. Blinking rapidly, he held them back. He wouldn't cry, not now and  _especially_ not in front of his brother. He was an angel, and angels didn't cry.

"We're..." Castiel took a deep breath. "You could say... we're not on the best terms." 

Much to his surprise, Gabriel didn't say anything for a while. Castiel did his best to avoid eye-contact, redoubling his attention on the highway. A sign flew by, and what felt like relief surged through his veins. They were almost out of Kansas, just fifty miles outside of Colorado. So he'd been right about traveling west. West was good. Certainly better than remaining anywhere near the bunker. 

After what seemed like forever, Gabriel whistled—long and low—and settled back in his seat. "Wow," he said, drumming his fingers against the armrest. "You packed your ass up and left." He was silent for a moment. And then: "Took ya long enough."

Castiel pressed his lips together. He almost corrected Gabriel on instinct, almost said the truth... that the Winchesters had kicked him out. But he quickly realized he wasn't ready to face it himself. And besides: it was easier to let his brother believe the opposite. That way, Castiel didn't seem like such a coward. 

"So," Gabriel said after a while, drawing out the word much longer than necessary. "Now that Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are outta the picture..." He waved his hand. "What are you gonna do?"

"I—" Castiel began, then stopped. In all honesty, he didn't  _know_ the answer to that question, hadn't even thought to ask it himself. His chest tightened. What  _was_ he going to do? He had no money, no job, not even a place to stay. And with Metatron still out there, there was probably a bounty on his head as well. He was, in all essence,  _alone._

"Hey, hey, calm down, bucko." Gabriel's voice, flippant as usual, knocked him out of his thoughts. Turning toward the sound, Castiel found that the archangel wasn't even looking at him. He appeared as nonchalant as ever. "And stop shaking; you'll run us off the road."

 _I'm not shaking,_ Castiel thought, but when he looked down at his hands, he discovered they were indeed trembling. He willed them to stop. He needed to stay in control. Now wasn't the time to break; he could save that for when he was alone.

"I don't know what I'll do," he eventually admitted with a defeated sigh. "Didn't think about it."

Gabriel snorted. "Course you didn't." He stretched. "But lucky for you, I've got a few ideas... and oh, are they  _brilliant."_

Castiel rolled his eyes. "I'm listening." 

"Nuh-uh." His brother gave him a smirk. "I'm not sharing until  _you_ tell me one thing—just one."

"Fine."

As he rolled his shoulders back, Gabriel's expression suddenly turned serious. "I wanna know that you're telling me the truth... about leaving the Winchesters. It  _was_ your decision, right?" 

For a moment, Castiel froze. To say that the question caught him off guard would be an understatement; it completely threw him. But as Gabriel waited for an answer, eyes tight and jaw just slightly clenched, Castiel found himself nodding.

"Yes," he said, then clarified: "I'm telling you the truth." 

He was certain his brother would see through the lie, certain he would leave, but in the seconds that followed, all Gabriel did was nod, apparently satisfied.

"Good." He smiled again, and appeared to think it was time to change the subject. "So, I've been thinking: with the yahoos out of your way, you could probably do some  _real_ damage in the monster world."

Castiel frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Mr. Oblivious, you could hunt." Gabriel's smile widened. "All the scary things'll quake in their boots with an angel after them." 

"Become a  _hunter?"_ Castiel tried to wrap his mind around the concept. "I—"

"Heck, I could even join you," his brother continued, staring out the passenger window. "I've been bored as hell lately and meaning to get back out in the world." 

Now  _that_ surprised him even more than the initial suggestion. Castiel felt his eyebrows skyrocket on their own accord. "You... you want to hunt?" He asked incredulously. "With me?"

For the millionth time that night, Gabriel rolled his eyes. "What'd I just say?" 

"I—" Despite logic saying that was a bad idea, Castiel weighed his options. In all honesty, it  _did_ sound like the best one. He already had experience as a hunter, and it would give him an excellent opportunity to save as many people as he could. And with his brother—an archangel, no less—by his side...

"Okay," he eventually agreed. "That... okay."

"Now  _that's_ what I wanna hear!" Gabriel said with a wide grin, reaching over and clapping him on the shoulder. "Let's raise some hell!"

His older brother put his feet on the dashboard and turned on the radio, cranking up the volume to some song Castiel had never heard. He didn't focus on the lyrics, nor on Gabriel's on-key but not particularly great singing. Instead, he put all of his attention on moving forward. 

And as they drove toward the West Coast, as the first hints of dawn whispered on the horizon, he wondered what on _earth_ he'd gotten himself into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I've had the idea of Cas and Gabriel hunting together for ages now, and finally decided to write it. I'll try to stick to a regular posting schedule, once a week. I'll also be periodically posting previews for upcoming chapters on my tumblr, @conversationkiller4531. Feel free to drop in, say hi, ask a question or two. My ask box is always open. 
> 
> Hope everybody liked this first chapter! I'm excited to see where the story will go, and I hope you stick around for the ride! Reviews and kudos are much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
> 
> -Nopride


	2. Of Redwoods and Trust Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel finds a case. Castiel keeps secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accompanying Music: Boulevard of Broken Dreams, by Green Day.

_"Dean, we need to get rid of the Mark." Castiel's tone was angrier than he intended, but it got the point across. "Something's not right."_

_If possible, Dean's expression darkened beyond human capability. He stalked a step forward, toward the angel, Sam behind him looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. Castiel stood his ground. Unarmed and without a safe place to retreat, he held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. He didn't want to fight, especially not his friends. And even if he had to, if the Winchesters left him no choice, he wouldn't do it. He was so, so_ tired _. Tired of exhausting his strength, of losing battles he shouldn't have fought in the first place. Half of him wanted to rest, but the other knew he couldn't_ — _not while Sam and Dean still needed him._

_Rolling his shoulders back, subconsciously stretching his practically useless wings, Castiel tried again: "I know you think this is the only way," he began, but Sam cut him off._

_"Cas, it_ is. _We've been over this."_

 _He sounded reluctant, frightened, and just about as tired as Castiel himself. The angel shut his eyes. Why wouldn't they listen to him? He was trying to_ help _them fight Metatron, not stop them from doing so. But their course of action, Dean bearing the Mark of Cain... Castiel knew it wouldn't end well. More than likely, it would end bloody_ — _and not for Metatron._

_"Listen to me!" He snapped, finally losing what little patience he'd maintained. "Both of you, listen. Us fighting? That's exactly what Metatron wants. And something tells me the Mark of Cain will only help him."_

_Dean watched him coldly. "If you're not with us," he said, voice like ice, "then get the hell outta here."_

_Castiel froze. Somewhere deep in his mind, he knew that the Mark was talking, knew that the hunter had long since stopped listening to him. With his jaw twitching, Castiel looked to Sam, hoping to find a voice of reason. They made eye-contact for maybe two seconds before the latter dropped his gaze to the floor. A heavy sigh escaped the angel's lips._

_"For what it's worth," he managed around a tight throat, "I'm sorry you had to do this."_

_Dean glared at him. "Just get out."_

_With one final glance at his friends, Castiel turned on his heel and walked out of the bunker, slamming the door shut behind him. He didn't know where he would go, nor what he would do, but that wasn't important at the moment. All he could think about was putting as much distance between him and the Winchesters as possible. And maybe, just maybe, he could outrun the feeling of crippling loss that threatened to drown him._

* * *

"'My shadow's the only one that walks beside me...'"

Castiel woke with a start at the sound of Gabriel's voice, belting out the lyrics to a song on the radio. Groaning, he shifted in the passenger seat. His tense muscles strained at the movement, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his brother glance at him. But when Gabriel realized Castiel was watching, he refocused his attention back on the road. Castiel frowned, but didn't comment. He would leave Gabriel to his own devices—easier that way.

Daylight streamed through the windows of the car. In the distance, Castiel could just barely make out the outline of a forest, a forest he knew he'd never seen. Trees, each taller than the last, dotted the horizon like pepper flakes. The car drew closer. The highway—now more of a road—narrowed into two lanes, one for each direction. He heard the radio spit out static as they passed into the treeline, an annoying sound, one Dean never would have tolerated in the Impala.

 _No, don't think about that. Focus on something else_ — _anything else._

He chose the trees. They were impressive, to say the least, certainly one of his father's more beautiful creations. As Castiel stared at them, at the russet bark protecting them like armor, he felt a small smile creep onto his lips. There was something peaceful about the forest, something he couldn't quite place. By all rights, the towering trees should have seemed imposing—dangerous, even. But they didn't. If anything, they gave off an aura of serenity, of protection. And at the moment, with Metatron still out there, Castiel figured he could use as much protection as possible.

"Redwoods," Gabriel said softly, reaching over and turning off the radio. For a moment, he sounded just as in awe as Castiel felt. "Welcome to California, bro."

Despite the scenery and his brother's gentle tone, Castiel found himself flinching.  _California_... The last thing he remembered was crossing into Colorado, when Gabriel had offered to drive. With a jolt of alarm, he realized just how long he'd been under.

"I..." He began, struggling to come up with a decent excuse—and blanking.

"You fell asleep." Gabriel wasted no time in cutting him off, his voice suddenly sharp. "For a  _day._ "

Castiel heard the accusation in that sentence, and tried not to look too guilty.  _Angels don't sleep,_  it said.  _Not unless they're hurt or fallen._ He turned his face away to stare out the window. He needed to appear nonchalant. It didn't seem like his brother knew about Metatron... or the Fall. Castiel aimed to keep it that way. The last thing he needed was the archangel's judgment.

"So?" He eventually asked, careful to keep his tone clipped. "I've done it before."

Gabriel wasn't fooled. "You wanna tell me what's going on, bucko?"

Something in his brother's voice made Castiel look at him. Although he gave no sign of discomfort and had a neutral tone himself, Gabriel looked like he wanted to say more. The way his hands clutched the steering wheel, the slight tick of a muscle in his jaw... they were dead giveaways that he knew something was up. And with Castiel unable to lie convincingly, it was only a matter of time before Gabriel figured everything out.

But he would put off that moment for as long as possible. "Nothing," Castiel mumbled, and almost winced at how uncomfortable he sounded. After another bout of silence, he added: "I'm fine."

"You're right as rain." Gabriel rolled his eyes and glanced his way. "Look, Cas, I'm not tryin' to uncover all your deepest, darkest secrets... I just wanna get caught up on what I've missed."

It was quite a statement for someone who'd abandoned him in the first place. Bristling, Castiel glared at the archangel, blue eyes as cold as steel. "And why should I believe you?"

He saw Gabriel's face darken, but his brother didn't otherwise act angry. Instead, he played it off with his usual snark: "Okay, okay, don't get your panties all in a twist. Sheesh. No more questions."

They were both silent after that. Neither angel looked at the other. Castiel busied himself with staring at the trees—Redwoods—standing taller than Goliath. Despite his best efforts, he felt a fresh wave of helplessness wash over him. It wasn't that he  _wanted_  to argue with Gabriel; he just couldn't stand to let him know about everything that had happened. Castiel  _knew_  that if he told his brother about Metatron, he would leave. And at the moment, with the pain of losing the Winchesters flaring like a wildfire in his chest, Castiel didn't think he could take being alone.

As the car drove through the never-ending forest, he found himself wondering where they were going. Gabriel showed no signs of stopping—or slowing down, for that matter. Even when they passed a gas station, where Castiel was certain he'd pull over, they kept going. Absurdly, the words  _I'm sorry_  played on his lips. He swallowed them back down. Apologizing wouldn't do any good, might even make his brother question the status quo even more. If it was one thing neither of them needed, it was more questions.

"Have," Castiel began uncertainly, then continued stronger: "have you found a case yet?"

Gabriel raised a brow at him. "He speaks! Took ya long enough, Cas." The humor didn't last long, mostly because Castiel glared at him until he stopped. "Alright, fine. Yeah, I think I found something."

"Where?"

"Humboldt State University. Two girls vanished about a week ago while on a hike. One of them comes running back to campus three days later—bloody and screaming that a monster took her friend."

The archangel pulled out his phone and handed it to Castiel. A news article was on the screen, detailing the story in full, and the lesser angel frowned. "What are the authorities saying?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Ah, you know, the usual: girl was traumatized, mistook a bear for something else." He paused, expression clouding over. "Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. Still think we should check it out."

Glancing at the article again, Castiel nodded. "How far are we from the university?" He asked as he scrolled through the page.

"Be there in about an hour."

"Good." Castiel saved the link to the report. "Maybe we can stop this thing before it hurts anyone else."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler chapter, but I wanted to explore Gabriel and Castiel's dynamic more before I got into the plot. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!
> 
> -Nopride.


End file.
